Faire Arato
by Dragonsgirl16
Summary: The world stands upon a precipice, Sauron plots to rule over Middle Earth, but in secret, he makes other plans. To bring Morgoth back from the void. The Valar, foreseeing this, turn to another world and a hero well known for her defeat against a powerful and ruthless Dark Lord. She is Death's Champion, and the greatest hope Middle Earth has, but will it be enough?
1. Prologue

A/N: This is kind of a second take on Fea Uin Galad, though I like it, I think it could be better. Therefore, I produced this! The title is Quenya, from Faire meaning natural death, but it also means radiance, phantom and free, and Arato meaning champion. So basically the title, in my context, means Death's Champion or Radiant Champion.

Hopefully, what I've constructed is a more believable story.

Enjoy~

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Death. A word that has many meanings, symbolisms and connotations. It is something humans avoid, knowingly or not, whether you seek the key to immortality or merely take steps to remain healthy. We are all trying to escape that inevitable end. Because after death, what are we, but the ghost of a memory, slowly forgotten in time. No one wants to be nothing. No one wants to spend their life working hard to achieve something that matters, only to die, to have that effort have been for nothing.

Amaryllis Potter did her duty to the world, to the Wizarding World she as hailed a pariah, to the muggle world she was the hero they would never know. She had saved them from a life of servitude, or mass genocide, at the hands of Voldemort, yet, they did not know. They remained ignorant of the world hidden just beyond their sight, content to let _science_ explain away the magic encounters. Muggles were content to hide from magic, or anything unexplainable, they shrug it off with only a thought that stranger things have happened. Wizards were ignorant too. They were ignorant of so many advances in the muggle world, they thought it a simple world, but in truth it was those with magic that were simple. Perhaps that is why she agreed to this trip.

A trip solely in the muggle world, no magic allowed, though they'd have their wands with them for emergencies. Rogue Death Eaters were still around after all. But they would travel to eight different countries by plane or train or any other muggle means of transportation. Hermione suggested it, after the Final Battle, she had grown wary of magic and wanted to immerse herself in the world she grew up in. Ron was quick to agree though he wasn't entirely keen on the live like a muggle experience, but he loved Hermione and would do anything for them. Amaryllis joined them not long after Hermione broached the subject.

Their first stop was Italy, where Ron proposed to Hermione on a gondola in Venice, they married a month later in the Duomo in Florence – Amaryllis having pulled some strings with the magical government of Italy, without the knowledge of Hermione. They honeymooned in Australia and while the newlyweds had some time alone, Amaryllis searched for Hermione's parents. Her wedding gift to them was to be reunited with Mr and Mrs Granger. They stayed in Africa for two months, taking in the wildlife and the native tribes in the area, before moving on to France, Russia, Spain, New Zealand. Until finally they came to America.

'There isn't a magical community here,' Hermione had told them when they landed in Washington. 'They moved to Europe after the Witch Trials.'

'I don't blame 'em.' Ron had muttered sullenly. Hermione wanted to visit all the states, so they decided to rent a car and drive, do things the old fashioned way. Though Amaryllis thought a car was hardly old fashioned. For each state they visited, Hermione picked up a keyring and a postcard to send home to her parents. They were just leaving New Orleans when Hermione got the news she was pregnant, but she was determined to see their trip to the end, even if it meant giving birth on American soil.

Their last stop before returning home was Florida, Orlando to be precise. Where they got a taste of the Disney theme park, Hermione loved it, as a child she had loved the Disney films. Amaryllis hadn't been allowed to watch the films but knew enough to have a vague understanding of what Hermione rambled on about.

Florida marked a change for all three of the trio.

It was the place where Hermione went into premature labour.

It was the place Ron became a father.

It was the place Amaryllis died.

At first, they thought Hermione was just sick, she'd gone to bed early that night feeling a little woozy. But that morning she had awoken to bloody sheets and screamed. It was Ron who woke Amaryllis, and her who called for an ambulance. Ron was beside himself, pacing up and down the hotel room and cursing up a storm. So it fell to Amaryllis to console the panicked mother to be.

'Look at me,' she knelt before Hermione. 'Look at me,' she repeated when the woman only sobbed hysterically, finally doe brown eyes turned to her. 'Everything's going to be fine, but you need to calm down, you'll do no good to yourself or the baby if you get all worked up.'

'The blood,' Hermione whispered. 'It means something's wrong. I read about it. What if the baby's dead? Oh god! My baby!'

'Hermione!' She shouted, getting the attention of the bushy haired woman. 'Do you trust me?'

'What? I can't think of you, Ryl. The baby.'

'Do you trust me?' She asked more forcefully.

'Yes, with my life, you know this.'

'Then trust me when I say,' her hands moved to grasp Hermione's cheeks, pressing her forehead against the sticky forehead of her friend's. 'The baby will be fine. You will be fine.'

The paramedics arrived, whisking her to the hospital quickly, Ron went in the ambulance and Amaryllis drove behind them. Haphazardly parking her car in an open bay, she rushed inside, where Ron was pacing the waiting room.

'They took her in for emergency surgery,' he told her rushed. 'She should be in a Wizarding hospital. I should have taken her back to England the moment we found out.'

'A muggle hospital is better than nothing,' she reassured.

 _Please, Merlin, God, Hecate, Odin, whoever the fuck is up there. Do not let her die. Do not let that baby die. Please, I would give anything to let them live._

'Anything?'

The voice startled her, whirling around she came face to face with a being too perfect to be considered human. He was handsome, painfully so, but there was a moroseness to him that made appear standoffish. She looked around her, only to realise everything was frozen.

'Time is at a standstill,' the being told her. 'I am Mandos, one of the Valar, and often associated with death. I come to you, Amaryllis Potter, at a time of great need. You are Death's Champion.'

'A time of need?' she didn't have _time_ for this, needed or otherwise. Not while her friend was battling for her life and that of her baby.

'They are dying,' he told her gently, the scene around them shifted, and she could see doctors moving quickly about a surgical table.

' _Heart beat's dropping,' the nurse called._

' _Shit,' the doctor cursed, 'we need to get the baby out. Now. Else it'll die.'_

 _The glint of the surgical knife seemed menacing to her, and the moment the doctor pressed it to Hermione's skin, the machines in the room blared loudly._

' _She's coding,' the nurse said._

 _They swung into action, bringing the defibrillator over, pressing to Hermione's chest each time it charged, but it was no good. She was dead. The doctor instead focussed on the baby, but the umbilical cord was wrapped around its neck. It died along with its mother._

'They will die,' Mandos told her again.

'Then how do we stop this?' she questioned angrily. 'Magic? A potion?' Mandos said nothing only stared at her dispassionately. 'There has to be something!'

'Your magic is beyond Hermione's reach,' he responded. 'I told you, I come to you at a time of great need. The death of your friend is what has allowed me to stand before you. But it does not have to be this way.'

'What need do you have of me? What need would require my friend to die?' She spat hard, her body shaking with fury.

'The Valar preside over another world, Middle Earth,' his tone was serious. 'It is a the world that stands upon the brink of war. The Dark Lord Sauron has returned, and plots to open the gate in which a great and terrible evil is trapped behind. The only thing standing in his way is a Halfling. He will seek to destroy the ring that would give Sauron physical form, and he will succeed, but not before Sauron opens the gate and unleashes the wrath of Morgoth. Middle Earth and all of Arda will fall and the Valar will cease to exist. Illuvatar has allowed me passage, to stand before you, Death's Champion, and seek your aid.'

'Why now?' she asked, her voice quiet, her eyes transfixed upon the still form on the surgical table. 'Why me? Why does she have to die? It's not fair!'

'There is still a chance Hermione Granger might live and the baby too,' he told her and she turned to face him. The scene around them shifted and she was back in the waiting room, a frozen and crying Ron behind her and Mandos before her.

'How?' she asked softly.

'In return for your assistance on Middle Earth, Illuvatar will give life to your friend and her child once more,' he quickly held up a hand to stop her from accepting right away. 'As with all things, there is a price to pay, in return for their life, you will die in this world. Once your quest is complete you will never be able to return to this world. Amaryllis Potter will cease to exist.'

She'd never given much thought to how she would die, she assumed she would die in the fight against Voldemort. She did die then, but chose to come back, she should have known it wasn't as simple as it seemed. It gave her a connection to death. Mandos appearing before her and asking her to die in order to save his world was the price she was paying.

 _But to save Hermione and her baby isn't it worth it? To exchange my life in place of two isn't that worth it? But I do not know the consequences, I do not know what will happen in this new world, but still…_

Hermione had been there with her, never once doubted her, and even offered to walk into the forest with her, knowing death was at the end. She'd walked through hell. What was Amaryllis' life compared to that? She took a deep breath and looked at Mandos. 'I will do it,' she told him. Her voice firm and resolute.

'I expected no less,' he smiled. 'Your mission is as follows. Keep Frodo Baggings safe, allow him to destroy the One Ring, and then, when the time comes you must destroy Morgoth once and for all. No one else can do this task. No one has the power to defeat him. Not even the Valar. But you, a magical woman from another world, might just have what is needed. It is a hard path you must walk, stray but a little, and Middle Earth is doomed.'

'No pressure then,' she muttered. 'So I just die?'

'Yes,' he swept a hand around the room. 'Time will return to normal, you will die and wake in Middle Earth. It will be like falling asleep.'

She nodded.

 _I'm sorry Hermione,_ she thought as Mandos disappeared, time sped up and she could hear the sounds of Ron pacing and muttering worriedly. _I chose your life over mine, terribly reckless, and I know you will be angry with me. But there was no other choice. I'm sorry. I love you. I wanted to be the best aunt ever._ Tears gathered in her eyes, she could feel her heart beat slow, she took a shaky breath and collapsed to the floor. People blurred above her but there was no mistaking the carrot top of Ron's head. _I won't be there to see your child grow. But I know you'll both be great parents. Do not be sad, I'm not really dying. I'm needed elsewhere. Another adventure. It's time to put an end to the story of the Golden Trio. Our paths no longer intersect. This is goodbye. I will remember you. Always._

Her eyes closed, her heart stopped, a tear fell from her lashes and a soft smile played on her face. As though she was merely sleeping.

It would be sometime later that Ron would be allowed admittance to see Hermione, the news of Amaryllis' death resting heavy on his heart. He knew he would have to tell Hermione what happened, the grief of the death of the girl-who-lived outweighed the miracle of life. He would enter the room quietly, see his sobbing wife, and know she already knew. Hermione had heard the last goodbye Amaryllis had uttered, but she was not angry at the decision, for it was just like Amaryllis. She always saved people, no matter the cost, and Hermione couldn't be angry at that. She would look to Ron, with her tear stained face, her arms clutching a pink bundle.

'Amaryllis Rose Weasley,' she would say and Ron would fall to his knees and sob. The baby girl would grow up, attend Hogwarts, become a pioneer in Wizarding technology and medicine, all the while hearing stories of the girl-who-lived, and proudly trying to live up to her namesake.

Every year, on the birthday of Amaryllis Weasley, Hermione would take a moment to look up at the sky. It was always sunny, blue skies, and warm. She would smile and she would wonder how her best friend was faring on her adventure. She would whisper one word, before turning back to her daughter, and those gathered around her.

'Always.'

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A/N: That was quite a sad ending of the prologue, I hope you guys will like this a lot better, I enjoy writing this version a lot more. The plot for this one also extends beyond LOTR, and is more in-depth and full of history, it will include Dagor Dagorath.

Please Review.


	2. Trolls and Horses

A/N: Ever wonder what it would be like if we were all living life in according to someone else's rules? I found myself questioning that today, like someone could be writing my lines as we speak, making me question whether or not we are all like the sims... maybe I'm just weird. Anyway, here is chapter one of Faire Arato.

Enjoy~

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The first thing she was aware of was the creaking sound, like that of a wooden wheel spinning round, and the humming of a song. An earthy smell reached her nose, she must be in the countryside, or in a world where they've yet to discover the Industrial Revolution. By the jarring of her body, they'd yet to discover roads, or cement. She groaned and sat up, rubbing absently at her head, a headache had formed behind her eyes, and she feared it would become a migraine.

'Headache, my dear?' the voice startled her, the wand holstered on her arm dropped into her hand. Turning, she found herself looking into an old and wise face, he smiled at her, his wrinkled face light and good. He was not a bad guy.

'Dying will do that to you,' she told him softly, her voice full of grief, his smile saddened and he patted the seat beside him. She climbed over, settling comfortably on the bench-like seat, he placed a hand over her forehead and with a whispered word her headache was gone. 'You're a wizard?'

'Aye,' he nodded. 'Though folk in Middle Earth call those like me Istari. My name is Gandalf the Grey.' He gave her a lopsided smile. 'Though you may call me Gandalf.'

'Istari?' she questioned before shaking her head. Hermione would have her head if she forgot to introduce herself, the thoughts of her friend sent a pang of longing through her heart. 'It's a pleasure to meet you, Gandalf, I am…' she paused a troubled look came over her face.

 _Who am I?_

Amaryllis Potter was dead.

But who was she if who she was is dead?

'…I do not know who I am,' she mumbled. 'I knew who I was, but I cannot be her anymore.'

'Perhaps you shall rediscover yourself,' Gandalf made an hmm noise, before pulling out a wooden pipe. He began cleaning it and replacing the tobacco within. 'Often we find many things on the roads we travel. New and old. What matters is the actions we take, those are what define us, my dear.'

'Someone else told me something like that,' she told him, fondly remembering her godfather.

'Ah,' he winked at her, 'then they were very wise.'

'Not really,' she laughed, 'it was a rare moment.' She fell silent, thinking of Sirius had her thinking of those lost in the battle, of those she left behind. Her heart hurt. She did not realise she was crying until Gandalf gave her a handkerchief.

'An Istari is a wizard,' he told her as she dabbed at her eyes. 'Sent to Middle Earth by the Valar, our job is to guide those around us. There are five of us in total. Saruman the White, the head of our order, me, Radagast the Brown, he's a bit… odd…' he laughed and she smiled, picturing someone rather like Luna in her mind. 'Then there are the two blues… I can never remember their names.'

'Only five people with magic?' she asked in shock.

'Six now, if we are to count yourself among us,' he snapped the reins and urged the horse a little faster. 'But your magic is altogether different from ours. We ask the elements to lend us their powers, you simply create them, without our staffs we cannot do magic, but you can.'

'How do you know so much?' she asked, blown away by his knowledge of her magic.

'I was forewarned of your arrival, as were two others,' his eyes began to twinkle, reminding her a lot of her old headmaster.

'Then you know of what I must do? Of Mo-'

' _Do not speak of it, child,'_ the voice of Mandos sounded in her head, stopping her speech and making her frown.

' _Why not?'_ She asked confused.

' _There are some things best left unsaid. If you were to foreworn him and others of Morgoth's return, then they will focus on that, and not on Sauron.'_

She huffed and looked away from Gandalf, she did not like to keep secrets, especially from potential allies. She wondered if she should just tell him regardless.

'Tis not wise to go against the Valar,' Gandalf said with a smile. 'They reveal what they must, but to know the future is a risky thing.'

'How did you…' she trailed off, a pout forming on her face. 'You're the reincarnated version of Dumbledore… I swear it.'

 _Gandalf knows shit, Dumbledore knew shit, I suppose I can join them on that train. I know shit too, though I wish I didn't._ Though Gandalf liked to speak in riddles, he was good company, and good with a sword. She found that out when they were accosted by a species Gandalf called Orcs, he may be old, but he had style. He knew how to hunt for food, skin it and cook it, a blessing to Amaryllis who did not know how to do either of those things. She asked him, one morning two weeks after her arrival into Middle Earth, where they were heading.

'To Rivendell,' he told her, 'where I will leave you in the capable hands of Lord Elrond, who, I've no doubt, will want to teach you a few things. I must travel to the Shire, and hope this little detour doesn't make me late for old Bilbo's birthday party. A hundred and eleven is a remarkably long life for a hobbit.' The last sentence was said quietly, more a musing for himself rather than a piece of knowledge for Amaryllis. She disregarded it as unimportant.

She wanted to protest at being left behind, desiring to stay with Gandalf, but it was a childish need that her wanting such things. She was not a child. She could handle herself without Gandalf. Perhaps her need stemmed from those she had lost, she was in a new world, and Gandalf was the only person she knew. The only one like her. She shook her head, ridding herself of the childish possessiveness. If Lord Elrond was willing to teach her, she would be an avid student and learn all she could of Middle Earth.

Lord Elrond was very willing to teach her and she found he was rather like Professor McGonagall, stern and strict, but fair and just. When he had the time spare to teach, he expected her full and undivided attention. When he was not teaching her history he had his daughter, Arwen, teach her Sindarin. Speaking the language came easy to her, a small gift from Mandos she later found out, but writing Tengwar was another thing entirely. Her chicken scratch was no match for the beautiful and fluid script of the elven language. Arwen had given up on teaching her to write, leaving her to write in English – or Common, as they called it in Middle Earth – and sought to simply get to know the girl-who-had-no-name. She had not given them the name her mother gave her, for as she told Gandalf, she was not that girl anymore. Her name came three months after her stay, Arwen had finally gotten fed up of not having a name to address her with.

'Kuru,' she announced one morning, throwing the thin curtain that separated the bedroom and balcony aside, 'I name you Kuru.'

'Thanks, _mother_ ,' the newly christened Kuru groaned, throwing the blanket over her head, she snuggled back into the sheets, content to fall back to sleep.

'Up,' Arwen spoke, lightly tapping her on her backside, 'the sun has risen, there is no use wasting the day away. I want to show you the stables.'

'The stables?' her head poked out of the blankets. 'Horses?'

It was every girl's little dream of owning her own horse, Arwen knew this, and was fully prepared to exploit the weakness of her friend. 'Of course there are horses in the stables, what do you think they are used for?' she laughed and shook her head, before revealing the package she had placed on the chair when first entering the room. 'It's a dress for you. You've spent far too long in breeches and tunics, it's time to look like a woman.'

'But Arwen,' she groaned, turning her pout to maximum. 'I don't like dresses. I'm fully prepared to look like a guy.'

'But I am not prepared to let you,' Arwen gave her a placating smile. 'It's for your own good. Ada agrees with me on this.'

If there was anyone who could get the witch to agree to anything, it was Lord Elrond. He frightened her, not in a bad way, it was as though he were her father and she didn't want to disappoint him. She stretched her body after standing from the bed, grinning at sound of Arwen's tsking at her choice of night clothes. The shorts and tank top were comfy, no amount of disapproval was going to change her mind, besides, it's not like anyone would see them beyond Arwen who was her wake up call. 'Okay then,' she agreed. 'Let's get me into that atrocious thing.'

'Do not act as though wearing a dress will bring about the end of the world,' the beautiful elleth rolled her eyes.

'Kuru,' she whispered to herself in the looking glass, dipping a cloth into the water basin, she cleaned her face from the sweat of sleep. Her fingers lingering on her cheeks. 'Kuru,' she whispered again. It meant magic, a fitting name, though not exactly creative. 'I am Kuru,' she told herself, a beaming smile highlighting her face.

'And Kuru is a beautiful woman,' Arwen said behind her, holding up a stunning green gown. 'This dress will only enhance that.'

'I don't know how you dare call anyone beautiful,' Kuru laughed. 'I was very jealous of you when I first glanced at you.'

Arwen had not been there for the first month of her stay, having been in Lothlorien, and during that month she had rarely left Lord Elrond's side. He was old and wise, she had much to learn from him, he quickly grew to be a paternal figure. He too, seemed to view her as a daughter, and allowed her access to his private library. Then Arwen returned and jealousy struck, not only for the beauty the elleth possessed, but for her relationship with her father. She hated herself for it, but every time she saw them together, her heart would clench and she would hate Arwen. So she distanced herself, choosing to be alone, until Arwen marched over to her, took her to one of the many teaching rooms, and began to teach her Sindarin. She realised that Arwen was beautiful inside and out, and her self-loathing only grew. It was Lord Elrond who set her straight. Arwen was his daughter by blood, but she also held a place within his house.

'Most mortal women are,' Arwen laughed with her. 'Though you are not mortal,' her gaze grew sad, pained, and Kuru got the feeling she knew what laid ahead. 'I am glad you left your jealousy behind you.'

'As am I,' Kuru replied, slipping the dress over her head, allowing Arwen to tie the strings. 'You are my best friend, Arwen. Just like Hermione,' the name was uttered with such fondness. 'Sometimes you remind me of her.'

'Will you tell me of her?' Arwen asked.

Kuru remained silent for a long while, slipping her feet into the soft slippers, she allowed Arwen to loop their arms together and begin a slow walk to the stables. 'She was my best friend, my sister in all but blood. I love her greatly.' She began softly, as though unwilling to disturb the peaceful memory of her friend. 'I was eleven when I first met her, we didn't become friends right away. She was very clever, always in the library, and I thought her to be a stuck up know-it-all.' She laughed as the image of the bushy haired girl, with a slight buck tooth, her arms wrapped around a book or two, swam to the forefront of her mind.

'What changed?' Arwen asked curiously.

'A mountain troll was let into the school,' she told Arwen who gaped in horror. 'Ron had said some rather nasty comments about Hermione, she overheard them and fled to the bathroom in tears. She didn't come out for the Halloween feast, so when the troll came into the school she didn't know. We'd been told to follow the prefects back to the dormitory but Hermione was still in the bathroom, I couldn't leave her there alone, so Ron and I snuck out of the group.'

They'd reached the stables and Arwen greeted the horse master, he returned the greeting, and allowed them inside. Kuru was introduced to Arwen's horse, a beautiful chestnut mare, who whickered in greeting at the sight of her master. Arwen fawned over the horse making Kuru smile, it was clear to see the bond between them. She wandered the stalls, peering inside to watch the horses, lingering to watch a young foal and its mother a while, before looking into the last stall. A white stallion met her gaze, he gave off a pure aura that had her gasping in awe, he seemed to glow with light and within his white mane she spotted silver bells. Hesitantly she reached out a hand to pet his head.

'I would not do that,' Arwen called. Kuru paused to look at the elleth. 'Asfaloth does not allow any but Glo-'

The sentence died on her lips, Asfaloth stepped forwards, moving his head and covered the distance between Kuru's raised hand and his head. Startled, she looked back to the horse and smiled, lightly rubbing her fingers against him. 'Beautiful,' she whispered, the horse seemed to preen under her compliment.

'Once again, you prove how strange you truly are,' Arwen laughed. 'As I was saying, Asfaloth only let's Glorfindel touch him, but it seems you are the exception.'

'There is always an exception to a rule,' she responded with a grin.

'I see that now,' she grinned. 'Will you continue your tale?'

She petted Asfaloth, her grin becoming sad as she returned to her story. 'We ran to the girl's bathroom, only the troll had gotten their first, Hermione was trapped in the cubicle, she barely huddled on the floor before the troll destroyed them with its club. I shouted for her to move, we got the troll's attention by lobbing bits of wood at it. Hermione moved under the sinks, but it spotted her, would have squished her with its club had she not moved in time. I drew my wand, but I had no idea what I was going to do. I'd only just begun learning magic after all. Somehow, I ended up hanging upside down from the troll's fist whilst it tried to batter me its club. My wand was up the troll's nostril and all I could do was dodge the blows. Ron drew his wand, using the only spell we'd properly learnt, he cast it and the club hovered in the air, escaping the grasp of the troll. It confused the thing. Ron released the spell and club hit the troll and knocked it out. We ended up with five extra house points, a few bruises, and of course my wand covered in troll bogeys. But Hermione became one of my best friends, the bruised ankle was definitely worth it.'

'They say great peril brings people together,' Arwen laughed. 'Though I shudder at the thought of troll bogeys.'

'As do I,' she laughed.

She lost herself in her memories, watching them play before her eyes like a movie projector, at first she laughed at them. But laughter soon dissolved into heartache. Arwen had left her some time ago, and Kuru was grateful for that, her only comfort was Asfaloth. The horse seemed to understand, for he shifted closer and whickered softly. She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead against Asfaloth's, before her closed lids she saw her trip around the world. She saw Ron propose to Hermione, she saw them fall into the waters of Venice as Hermione flung herself at him in happiness. She saw the Duomo, the wedding and the stunning white gown they'd rented from the old lady across the street from the villa they'd also rented from her. She saw the last moments she'd had as a member of the Golden Trio.

'I miss them so much,' she sobbed, her tears dripping onto the horse, her arms wrapped around him. 'Remembering them hurts. It hurts too much. But what can I do? Memories are all I have.'

'I've found that memories are often bittersweet.'

For a moment she thought it was Asfaloth who spoke, she wouldn't put it past the elves to teach their horses how to speak. The melodious quality to the smooth masculine tone was how she'd picture Asfaloth speaking, if he could, but the voice came from behind her. Turning she found herself looking at a very handsome elf she'd only ever seen in passing. She'd heard of Glorfindel, how could she not? The elleths liked to giggle and gossip about the strong elven lord, and of course Arwen told her about him. She'd seen his beauty from afar, but up close like this, he was simply radiant.

Like Asfaloth, he seemed to glow with an unearthly aura, a light that could not be touched by darkness. His golden hair fell down his back, luscious and luxurious, like that of spun gold, his blue eyes watched her with a sadness that spoke of understanding. He too had lost a great deal, though she didn't know what. He was taller than her, but that was common, all elves were tall and she was small.

He lifted a hand, placed it against her cheek and wiped away a few stray tears, he smiled softly at her. 'I've found that new memories lessens the pain,' he told her, the sadness in his eyes melting away to reveal a mischievousness that she'd only ever seen with Fred and George. His hand moved to capture her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze full on, his thumb brushing tenderly across her lower lip. 'I'd be more than happy to create some very _good_ memories with you.'

She wasn't naïve enough to miss that innuendo, her eyes went wide, her mouth dropped and she could not think of a reply. All the elves she had seen were very uptight, though Arwen was a slight exception to that, she hadn't witnessed them doing anything improper. Yet, here she was being _propositioned_ by the most gorgeous elf Rivendell had to offer. She couldn't help but laugh.

'Ah, you see,' he grinned at her, 'I've begun to create good memories with you already.'

'You did that to make me laugh?' she asked between her giggles, her eyes shimmering with tears of laughter.

'Perhaps,' he nodded, 'or maybe, to hide the cold sting of rejection your laughter has caused, I am making it seem that way.'

She laughed harder. His eyes lit up at the sound, before he began laughing with her, a light almost tinkling sound that contrasted her harsher sounding laugh.

'I had not thought to meet you here,' he told her after their laughter subsided. 'Nor did I think to bear witness to the sight of you crying, on my horse no less.'

'Arwen brought me here,' she mumbled, shrugging awkwardly. 'Your horse is rather pretty and seems to like me well enough.'

'Asfaloth is rather picky over his companions,' the elven lord mused, moving around her to pet his horse. 'But for you he makes an exception. I do not blame him. For a maiden so fair, I too, would make an exception.'

'I'm not _that_ pretty,' she pulled a face, wondering if he'd seen Arwen or just closed his eyes when in her presence. 'I'm human, full of flaws and imperfections. You should see me when I wake up, I look horrendous.' She was extending the truth a little, she knew she was considered to be very beautiful, with her snow white skin, ruby red lips, and haunting green eyes, but that was human standards. The elf before her was just trying to be polite.

'I would love to see you wake in the morning,' he told her, his lips quirking up into a smirk, and a playful look entered his eyes. 'Perhaps it is your imperfections that are attractive. Elleth do have a perfection about them, but it is so _normal_ and I find myself lingering upon that which is _abnormal_. You, my dear, are the very epitome of abnormal. A young maid, from another world, so powerful the Valar think you capable of defeating Morgoth.' He stalked towards her, circling her slowly, watching her as though she were a puzzle in which he longed to figure out. 'You have piqued my curiosity, I wonder though, are you prepared for it?'

 _Holy shit, this guy knows how to talk._

She found herself both intimidated and aroused by him. She watched as he slowly came before her once more, both hands cupping her face. 'Such a fragile little bird you are,' he told her softly. 'Yet I see power beneath that sadness which clings to your eyes, it is enticing and I desire to watch it grow. If you are to wander this world, you need to be prepared, for that you need to learn how to fight.' A hard look entered his eyes. 'I shall be your teacher. But I shall not go easy on you. It will be hard and rough.'

'I wouldn't have it any other way,' she whispered to him, her eyes brightened and a teasing smile lifted her lips. Blue eyes widened briefly, before darkening with an emotion she did not recognise.

'Oh, aiwe, you are a delight,' he laughed and released her. 'We shall train every afternoon, I expect to see you in the training ring a little after noon tomorrow.'

He turned on his heel and strode towards the exit.

'Glorfindel!' she called, he paused and half turned to her. 'How did you know about Mor-'

'You are not the only with a connection to Mandos,' he told her, cutting off her question before she could finish it. 'Do not wear that dress tomorrow, comely though it is, it is not practical for training. I shall see you tomorrow, aiwe.'

 _Aiwe means small bird,_ she crinkled her nose what was evidently her nickname. She did not wish to be called a small bird, but all the same, she did not wish to tell him that. She doubted he'd stop using it even if she did. She wondered what he meant about the connection to Mandos, she turned back to Asfaloth, but the elf lord lingered in her mind.

 _Glorfindel… what a strange elf you are… I find myself curious about you too._

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A/N: I really like writing Glorfindel and Arwen, they are like those sassy best friends we all have. Arwen is the more serious one and Glorfindel is the one you have stupid, but fun, conversations with. Next chapter, Kuru learns of Hermione and Ron's child and finally let's go of her friends. It's serious, but it's intermingled with the thoughts that Glorfindel is secretly out to kill her with his intense training. There also might be a moment when she thinks Elrond is Barney the Dinosaur... Who's looking forward to that?

Please Review.


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